


Touch

by sarai377



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:23:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4887055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarai377/pseuds/sarai377
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chrom is diagnosed with cancer and given only a few months to live, Robin and his family come together to make the rest of his life as wonderful as possible. </p>
<p>Modern AU - Heavy angst, grief, and themes of death. </p>
<p>Female Robin/Chrom</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to preface this whole story by saying I'm not a medical professional by any stretch of the imagination. I have a pittance of my own experiences to go by, and a lot of (probably incorrect) knowledge based off of TV shows and bits I've read on the internet. So please, understand I've dramatized some stuff that is probably nowhere near as glamorous in real life.
> 
> This wonderful dose of angst has been brought to you by MusicRibbons, who spent way too much time bouncing these ideas back and forth with me, to help flesh it out. She gave me this prompt and got the ball rolling. Much appreciated!

Robin's hand shakes so much that she has a hard time clicking the turn signal. The steering of their large SUV feels strange and unresponsive beneath her, and she bounces her left knee as she waits in the turning lane for the green arrow. The skies beyond the red light are gray but no snow is falling yet. 

Beside her in the passenger seat, Chrom is drowsing. His head is turned toward her, blue hair hanging in his eyes. He's been so easily tired lately, and prone to debilitating headaches. She doesn't want to wake him, but they are nearly to their destination. 

A little bit of drool is seeping from the corner of his mouth, and she reaches out and caresses his face. He rouses, squinting at her.

"You're drooling," she says, and smiles. 

He chuckles and swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Did you take a picture for blackmail?" he jokes, and then his face falls as he recalls where they are headed. He squints, and Robin watches his blue eyes fight to focus.

The vehicle behind them honks, and Robin jumps against the seat belt. The arrow is green. She steps on the gas a little too hard, and the vehicle lurches forward. 

The phone call this morning had been short and to the point. The doctor wanted to see both of them, as soon as possible. After the extensive tests Chrom was subjected to yesterday, Robin is terrified. No contact is good news... and a call for a meeting is generally bad. His symptoms could be caused by anything... and at first she didn't even know they were symptoms. Chrom has generally been very healthy.

As soon as she got the call, Robin left her hospital mid-shift, and went home to collect Chrom. At least Lucina and Morgan are still in school for a couple of hours, so if... 

She tightens her grip on the wheel, and stops the thought mid-stream.

A couple of minutes later, they are parked in front of the medical building. Robin draws in a deep breath, and Chrom grips her hand where it sits on the shifter. 

"Let's get this over with," he says, and gives her a smile. She can't tell what he's thinking, which is strange because she can usually read him like one of her patient's charts. 

She steps down from the truck and the cold slaps her face and hands, rushes up into her sinuses when she breathes in. The red SUV beeps as she locks it and stuffs the keys into the pocket of her winter coat.

As usual, Chrom beats her to the door. She doesn't fight it as much as she used to - he has worn her down somewhat, over the years.

The waiting room is all somber colors. Even the paintings on the walls seem sad in their fake cheer. 

They sit, and Chrom hooks her into his shoulder. The hard wooden armrest digs into her side, but she doesn't much care. She rests her cheek against Chrom's scratchy woolen peacoat, and they wait.

Dr. Libra was highly recommended by Robin's co-worker Maribelle, and he is a specialist in diagnosis. He has feminine features, and long blonde hair which he keeps back in a neat ponytail. Robin likes his smile and his very friendly manner. He is quietly religious, but Robin doesn't mind it. 

There is only the hint of a smile on his face today as he calls them back. Robin snakes her hand into Chrom's, and they exchange a look as he sits them down in his office. 

"Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice," Libra starts, and sets his folded hands on Chrom's file on the desk. Chrom responds, and they make small talk for a few moments. Robin's stomach clenches and her left knee starts bouncing. With his other hand, Chrom reaches down and gently stops the motion. 

As gently as possible, Libra pauses, and then says, "I realize this may come as a shock, but the tests point to lymphoma." 

The words crash against Robin, and she can't breathe. The doctor continues speaking, but Robin has gone numb, cold. The only thing she feels in that instant is Chrom's hand clutching hers tight on the hard plastic arm of the chair. Then the moment passes, and she draws in a painful, shaky breath. 

She should have seen the signs sooner. Chrom only started mentioning the headaches a few weeks ago. She thought it was nothing, just the stresses of his new semester at Ylisstol University. Her rotating schedule at the hospital meant she wasn't home regularly, and she thought nothing of him falling asleep in the easy chair in front of the TV. It didn't mean he was tired all the time - it doesn't mean he has  _lymphoma_. 

It was only when he said it was getting harder to see that she started to worry. 

Certain words break through the fog, and somehow they make it all worse. "Vision... aggressive... treatments... radiation..." 

Chrom squeezes her hand tighter. The thought that he is comforting her in this moment rubs against her uncomfortably. She should be there for him... but the world is crashing down around her and there is nowhere to hide. 

In the back of her mind, she notes this is what her patients must feel, and why they don't seem to remember anything the doctors tell them.

"Stop talking," Robin whispers.

Libra stops, and looks at Robin. Chrom looks at her too. His eyes are bright and wide. He's not comforting her, she realizes... he's clinging to her as hard as she's clinging to him. It doesn't make her feel any better.

Robin's voice sneaks out, foreign and low. "What kind of lymphoma?" 

The doctor leans forward. "Central nervous system." 

Her mind starts working again. Lymphoma is treatable, although with his symptoms... "Is it in his eyes?" 

The doctor looks down at the chart. "Yes." 

"Can I see his records?" She holds out her other hand for the file. 

"I've had the receptionist make a copy of the files for you," Libra says. He pulls a manila envelope out from beneath his own notes, and Robin grips it tight on her lap. "Maribelle mentioned you were very thorough and I assumed you would want to view them for yourself." 

"What's your prognosis? How much time do you think he has?" Her assertive voice has returned to her. She deals with doctors every day. If she treats this just like another patient, and not her husband... she almost feels like she's got this under control. 

"Well, that depends on treatment options. It's fairly advanced now, but we might be able to get him a few more months." 

Her body zings like she's been struck by lightning. "A few _months_?"

"Oh," Chrom whispers. It's the first thing he's said since entering the office. "What... what is lymphoma?" Apparently, he didn't hear anything the doctor said, either. 

Libra patiently explains what Chrom can expect, from the cancer and from the possible treatments, and Chrom looks paler and paler. Robin's heard this spiel many times with her patients, but it is entirely different when it is her own husband. She wishes she could take on the burden for him, take the pain from him. If she could take this disease from him and carry it in her own body, she would. 

But she can't. 

The office swims. A few months... the finality of it rings out in her head again, and Chrom grabs a tissue from the box on the desk and hands it to her. He doesn't look at her, and she blows her nose loudly. The tears keep flowing, as much as she tries to stop them. 

"Don't cry," Chrom pleads finally. "Please, Robin." 

"I can't stop it," she chokes. "This is a perfectly normal reaction to..." she starts, and then loses it. She starts sobbing, and the only thing that is anchoring her in place is Chrom's hand, so tight in her own. 

Eventually, her tears stop, and she swipes at her eyes. Distantly she sees her mascara on her fingers, and wipes it off into the tissue. Her face is hot and her eyes feel puffy and Chrom- and Chrom...

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her throat tight. 

She looks at Chrom, who has his eyes squeezed shut, and his knuckles are white in between her fingers. His face is dry, and pale. Robin instantly feels a hot flush of guilt. She's the one crying, but he's the one who could be... dying. She squeezes his hand back, and he exhales. 

His blue eyes open, and they look dull, distant. He's in shock.

The rest of the consultation goes by in a daze. 

When they return to their SUV, Robin sits in the driver's seat, but doesn't put the key in the ignition. After what they learned in there, she feels like the earth should have shifted on its axis, somehow; that nothing should be the same. This diagnosis has shattered their life together, and formed a new one out of the shards of glass. 

But the world around them doesn't care. It continues to spin, everyone else goes about their daily lives. She spots her puffy eyes and runny mascara in the rearview mirror, and automatically goes to clean it off. 

"Are you hungry?" Robin asks when she's done, and turns the key. The engine roars to life, and she turns to look at Chrom. 

"Not really," he says, leaning back in his seat and breathing heavily. He's holding the thin manila envelope in his lap, and Robin realizes that it holds the sum of his life, right there, in those few small ounces of paper. 

"Me neither," she says, and puts the truck into reverse.

~*~

Twenty-four hours later, two more MRI tests and three doctor's visits, and Chrom is exhausted. _At least I didn't have to do another lumbar puncture_ , he thinks, recalling the severe pain and nausea that had followed it. He'd called out from his Monday night class for that one. The muscles in his neck ache from holding still for the MRI tests.

He lies on the couch with his head on Robin's lap. Her hand runs along his hair and neck in soothing patterns, digging into the exact right spot to give him some relief. He groans, and she digs in just a bit deeper, pausing over the spot. She's browsing on her phone above him, her thumb flicking through some notes that she's taken, but Chrom can't bring himself to read. He doubts he would be able to read the phone from here, and his new glasses are sitting on the coffee table, too far away.

Robin looks as exhausted as he feels, but she is moving forward. Chrom can't, not yet. It still feels wrong, somehow, like every single opinion they've gotten is incorrect. He feels tired and sick, yes. But... Lymphoma...? A few months...? It can't be. 

Blindness, seizures, debilitating migraines... He closes his eyes and his stomach flips. All the symptoms of his "condition" circle around him, told in neutral doctors' voices - and the treatments will make most of the symptoms worse. Chemotherapy or radiation won't save his eyesight, won't bring it back to where it used to be. He's not sure if he can be strong enough to face them all - to face Robin and his children when he can no longer see them.

There's a pressure building up behind his eyes, and he exhales gustily. He's not going to cry. He is _not_  going to cry. 

"I love you," Robin whispers, and she rubs her fingers against his tight, creased forehead. 

He looks up at her, has to see her face. She's smiling, and he musters up one in response. 

"I love you, too," he responds, and if his voice is a little gruff, neither of them speak of it. 

They sit in silence for a few moments and he feels that pressure behind his eyes slowly fading away. She yawns, and covers it with one hand, back to browsing on her phone. With a start, he realizes something. 

"Robin, did you sleep at all last night?" 

"I think you know the answer to that." She gives him that smile, the one that means he's right. 

"You need to take better care of yourself," he chides. 

She shrug. "I couldn't sleep." 

"We have a couple of hours before the kids come home." He drags his drained body upright and plucks her phone from her fingers. She protests, but weakly. "Come here," he whispers, and pulls her into his arms. He lies back down, and she nestles in front of him. He puts his arm around her and his mouth near her ear. 

"I love you," he says, and kisses her ear. "Just close your eyes and relax." 

She twines her fingers in his, and he feels her body along the front of his relaxing by inches. Her hand stops squeezing as hard, and he knows she is soothed by his even breathing behind her. It was the only way she could sleep during the last two months of her pregnancy with Morgan. He nestles his head into her neck when he thinks she is asleep, and relaxes into the drowsiness himself. 

~*~

"Dad! I'm home!" It's Morgan, coming off the school bus. Chrom hears the voice, but before he even opens his eyes, there's a sharp ice pick of pain in his forehead and behind his eyes. He groans softly, and pulls one of the silk couch pillows over his head. In the darkness it feels better, less painful. 

"Morgan, hush," Robin says gently. Robin has already gotten up, but then he's not surprised. He smells coffee brewing, and guesses she's in the kitchen. 

"Mom? What are you doing home? Where's Dad?"

"He's sleeping on the couch. He's got a headache," she says, and Chrom hears the familiar sound of Morgan dumping his backpack in the mudroom. 

Morgan and Robin move around the kitchen, softly, but even their quiet shifting is enough to keep him awake. The sounds tumble around in his head, refracting into pain.

"I'm hungry, Mom."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Apples and peanut butter."

"Hmm, your father's favorite." That last is said with fondness.

And then it hits him... why Robin is home, why he's sleeping on the couch in the middle of the day, why his head is aching...

He lifts the pillow off his head. There's no way he can go back to sleep like this. Ignoring the pain as much as he can, he sits up and reaches for the glasses. They pinch at the bridge of his nose as he wiggles them around. With heavy feet he walks into the kitchen, squinting, and reaches for the bottle of Excedrin.

"Hey, Dad," Morgan greets him from the table, as Chrom fills a glass with cold water in the sink and pops the pills into his mouth.

"Hey, Son," he says back, their usual greeting. "How was school?"

"Boring, as usual," Morgan says, and Chrom imagines the usual eye roll that accompanies that exclamation. "Hey, when did you get glasses?" 

"Today," he responds, turning to squint at Morgan in the dining room. "Do you think they make me look like a professor?" 

"Nah, they make you look old," Morgan says, and Chrom can see the grin on his face. 

"Thanks, Son," he says, giving an eye roll of his own. 

"How are you feeling?" Robin asks, coming up beside him. The glass coffee pot trembles in her hand as she pours it into the mug. She keeps her eyes down as she stirs sugar into her black coffee. 

"It's fine," he says with a shrug. 

Robin's eyes dart up to him, and then away, quickly. "I could take you to your class, if you're still having that headache." 

"No, it's fine," he responds instantly. Despite his weariness and the throbbing in his head, he really wants to drive himself. It was one thing for her to drive him to and from the labs and doctor's offices, when they were both going to the same place. He's not an invalid... yet.

It suddenly feels surreal to Chrom, as if he's stepped out of a nightmare and back into a world where it's all normal. He leans his hip against the counter and finishes his glass. It clicks against the metal sink as he puts it down.

Morgan is a perceptive kid, but Chrom is not ready for him to find out yet. So he moves away from Robin and to the table, where he and Morgan share the plate of tart apples. Chrom makes a show of fighting over the last one but then lets Morgan have it.

The glasses do help him see better, despite the discomfort.

He's feeling much better when Lucina gets home. Robin is looking over her files for work, and Morgan is browsing the computer for a science project. Or at least, that's what he said he was doing. Knowing Morgan, he's probably playing one of those video games with his friends from school. The headache has dulled, so Chrom is reading the paper, catching up on current events, in preparation for tonight's class. A sense of normalcy descends again.

And then Robin looks up at him and asks, "When should we tell the kids?"

Pain and instant rejection of the thought slice through his stomach. Thinking of Morgan and Lucina knowing their father has cancer, how much pain it would bring them... he almost doesn't want to tell them. But it's not something they can keep a secret forever.

He rises and wraps his arms around her shoulders, pressing his cheek against hers. She puts her hand against his forearm. He has to shift his face thanks to the glasses digging into his nose. "Not tonight... But soon."

"Okay," she agrees with a sigh, and turns so her nose brushes against him. At this distance he can see her dark eyes clearly, especially with the glasses. She pulls his face down and kisses him, softly.

"Ew, get a room!" Morgan cries from behind them, and they jump apart like errant teenagers.

Chrom laughs as Robin's cheeks grow pink.

~*~

Chrom adjusts his glasses as the students file out of the lecture hall, fighting the urge to crinkle his nose in discomfort. He's already starting to hate the glasses, even though they help him see clearer than he has in a few weeks. The large world map on the stand behind him is fairly clear.

He takes his seat behind the large desk, and has to admit to himself that he probably should have let Robin drive him. She'd offered again right before he left, and he had obstinately refused. He is much too tired today, and the drive back will be long. He sighs, and starts gathering up his paperwork. 

His two TAs come over and they discuss plans for the next week. Sumia and Gaius are chatty and friendly, and most days Chrom enjoys reliving the terrible year and a half of his PhD with them. Somehow hearing about the hell they are going through casts his own graduate studies in a less harsh light. 

Tonight, though, his mind drifts. 

"Everything all right, Chrom?" Gaius asks after a couple of minutes. 

"Oh, sorry," he says, and musters up a smile. "I'm just tired today." 

"We could tell," Sumia says, frowning. "Is there anything we can do to help? Since you missed the lecture on Monday, we held down the fort, but..." She trails off, blushing a bit.

"Not for right now, thanks." Chrom adjusts the glasses again and this time does wince as the nose pad digs into his tear duct.

They discuss next week's class schedule and the study questions, and Chrom promises to email them the questions well in advance of the class.

Eventually Sumia leaves, but Gaius lingers on for a few more moments.

"Are you sure there's nothing bothering you?" He presses, and pulls out a couple of hard caramel candies from his bag, offering one to Chrom. "You seem more... worn out than usual. Everything all right at home?"

As he sucks on the candy, Chrom realizes that soon, it won't be. Gaius is a caring and supportive friend, and even though he reports to Chrom, they've had a long working relationship. Gaius was Chrom's first undergrad student that he counseled, and he'd requested to be TA for all of Chrom's classes when he could.

Chrom wants to tell him, suddenly, and he doesn't have a reason not to. It's his secret, for now, and who better to tell first? Everyone will know eventually.

But still, his heart races. This makes it real... and he's not sure he wants it to be.

"Chrom?" Gaius looks concerned now.

"I have lymphoma," he blurts out, before he changes his mind.

Gaius's mouth pops open and the candy nearly falls out.

Chrom packs up his laptop while it sinks in, not ready to see the expressions on his friend's face.

"Holy Naga," Gaius breathes after a pause, and flops down into a chair, heavily. "How... I mean... when did you find out?"

"Yesterday," Chrom responds, and finally looks at the red-haired TA.

Gaius shakes his head, running his hands through his hair. "Are you... I don't even know what to say. Gods, Chrom... I'm sorry."

Chrom sighs. "Yeah, thanks, I guess."

"Are you going to do chemo, or radiation?"

"Probably," Chrom says, although the thought of going through either makes him want to cringe. "It's in my head and my eyes, so the outcome isn't too good, even with treatments."

If possible, Gaius's eyes open wider. "How long did they give you, a couple of years?"

Chrom exhales through his nose, almost a desperate snort. "A few months." His eyes water, and he pulls off the glasses and throws them on the desk, then rubs at his eyes.

They sit in silence for a few moments, until Chrom finally feels in control of his emotions again. "You're, uh, the first person I've told."

"Does Robin know? How's she taking it?" 

He flinches."Yes, she knows." He's not sure why, but that question makes him tear up again. "I'd... prefer if you didn't tell anyone about it," he says, quickly.

"Of course," Gaius agrees. "Gods, Chrom. If you need anything, you let me know. You're the reason I got my bachelor's."

Chrom smiles at the younger man, and picks his glasses back up. "I know. I can remember getting that email at 1 AM, saying you didn't think you'd be able to get your final assignment done."

"Yeah, you stayed up all night helping me with it." Gaius laughs, his eyes shining bright. "Bubbles damn near killed me when she walked in on me in the shower."

"I damn near killed you too," Chrom says, although good-naturedly. Sleep deprivation had set in with both of them, and Gaius was taking a shower before heading to his final class. Chrom hadn't realized Robin would awaken, unaware Gaius was in the house, and try to join what she thought was Chrom in the shower... She'd thrown a soap dish at Gaius, and he had apologized profusely for weeks.

They chuckle about it for a few moments, and then Chrom sobers. "I'll be doing this class for as long as I can," he says, even though he hasn't talked with Robin about it yet. She knows how much he loves teaching.

"Good," Gaius says, nodding. "You... just let me know if there's anything you need from me. Anything at all." He grips his bag and then slings it over one shoulder.

"Thanks," Chrom says, and Gaius grips his shoulder. 

Somehow, he makes it home without any problems.

He walks into the Iiving room and stops at the lamp that Robin always leaves on for him. He pauses, squinting through the glasses at Robin, who is sleeping in the rocking chair, her chin practically down to her collarbone. He looks at her for a moment, drinking in the lines of her soft face, inanimate in sleep. Her pale blond, almost white hair hangs around her face, shifting with her breath.

His hand moves toward her, but then he holds back. It doesn't look comfortable, but she's asleep, for the moment. He'll come back later when he's ready to go to bed.

He goes to check on Morgan, and finds him also asleep in his chair. His head is leaned back on the headrest, and he's snoring. Like mother, like son, Chrom thinks, but he decides to disturb Morgan.

The boy looks up sheepishly and ruffles his hair as Chrom knocks on the open door. "I was just resting my eyes," he says, grinning to let Chrom know he's joking.

"I think it's time for bed," Chrom replies, and Morgan nods. 

Lucina is awake still, and looks up from her laptop when he walks to her door.

"Hang on, guys, my dad's here." She closes the computer and sits up.

"You'd better not be Skyping with boys," Chrom says, semi-jokingly, and sits down beside her.

Lucina smiles, shaking her head. "I'm chatting with Owain and Inigo about our History class project. How was your class?" 

"Good."

She scoots over and rests her head on his shoulder, and he holds her for a few moments. Faint piano music is playing from the stereo, soft and soothing.

Lucina tilts her head, and frowns. "Is something wrong with Mom? She seems a little... stressed."

Suddenly, Chrom realizes why Gaius' question about how Robin was taking it made him feel so uncomfortable. He hasn't really been paying attention to her reaction. He doesn't think he's seen an emotion from her, since that first doctor's office visit. She's been... numb and distant. 

And he feels terrible for thinking this, but a part of him isn't ready to deal with her sorrow. When she started crying in the doctor's office... he felt something breaking inside of him, a strong stone structure cracking under that weight of her pain. Or, more specifically, the fact that he can't make it better for her.

He wants to leave the house instantly, to run away from Lucina's questioning eyes, from Morgan's soon to be shattered innocence... from the pain in his wife's eyes as she watches him die.

But he doesn't. With a shaky breath, he holds himself together.

"Dad?"

Chrom tries to act as natural as possible, but he's pretty sure Lucina can sense the strangeness of his reaction. "She's fine. She hasn't been sleeping well, is all." And then he continues, "Your grandfather is coming to Ylisse next week, and he's been asking to see the family."

"Oh... that explains it," Lucina says, nodding sagely. The kids both know that Robin's relationship with her father is strained, even if they don't know all the specifics. Even Chrom doesn't know all the details, only that they had a falling out when Robin was much younger, and it involved Robin's mother's death.

"I'll let you get back to studying. Don't stay up too late," he says to Lucina, earning a smile from the sixteen-year-old. He rises, and she returns to her laptop. 

Chrom returns to the living room, where Robin is still asleep. He stands beside her for a few minutes, thinking.

When he reaches for her, to his surprise she doesn't come completely awake. He leans down and tucks her small body into his arms, and she nuzzles against him. She is so light in his arms, barely a burden at all.

He settles her, fully clothed, into the bed, and joins her. She rouses enough to cuddle up to him, and they fall asleep together.

**Author's Note:**

> This story will have seven chapters and an epilogue.  
> Please let me know what you think!  
> Thanks to MusicRibbons for fleshing out a significant amount of backstory for this fic, as well!


End file.
